Don’t Be Funny, Be Hilarious
Wyn, age 18
I hit a major lick. My biggest one. A hundred thou was my cut, off a three-way split.
Of course it was time to fucking party.
I don’t even know how I ended up fucking with Wave. He was a friend of a friend of a friend, and he liked how I looked. But I told him I wasn’t giving him the time of day unless he put me onto some real money, and even then I was lying. He was a gang member.
From the west side, but still. I was cool.
I didn’t expect him to put me on. I didn’t expect him to really clue me in.
Cracking cards. Fencing. Shit, selling shit that didn’t even exist.
That’s how we got this lick. Selling some rare car to some unsuspecting rich nigga who had more money than sense. The money was wired into untraceable accounts, and we were long gone before he even realized the car was a figment of his imagination.
Five hundred thousand dollars, just like that.
Wave and his cousin Flyy were the leaders. Everyone else in their lil’ gang were followers, but since I was the pretty face that met with the lick, I got the same amount that Wave and Flyy got, before they divided up the leftovers for their gang.
The high of counting up the small bills to throw in a bag. I was aching by the time Wave dropped me off back home. If I hadn’t recognized the car parked in front of Pops’ house, I probably would have let Wave make good on his promises to eat my pussy.
But then fucking Richard had to ruin it.
It was bad enough Foe Dub was everywhere wreaking havoc and having groupies lined up to shake their dicks and clean them, but now that Richard was going off to the Marines, Auty called herself moping around, being all sad, like her world was ending.
Good riddance.
Seeing him again later that night wasn’t a fluke.
I was tired of being in the shadows. Usually I tucked myself away, staying on the west side, only dealing with Auty through Pops or the rare occasion her guard dogs weren’t around.
But I was a hundred thousand dollars richer, and that much closer to closing on a place all cash.
I needed to own my shit outright.
Plus, Richard was leaving. I was celebrating.
The sun was climbing the sky, peeking into my curtains as I lit my blunt. Saturdays at Paradise were lit, but so were Sundays, so I was meeting up with my crew there later on that night. Before then, I was gonna stop in the west side at this sports bar Wave owned to pregame.
There were stacks of cash on my bed, as well as a notebook I used to keep track.
The bulk of my money I saved, but I still broke some off to Pops.
Even though I shouldn’t have, I gave Turkey ten grand, since Pops was worried about the state of the broken down booty club.
They had good girls, and Auty was a natural dancer, but that was for sure a shithole. They didn’t even have good wings!
And then, of course, my… habits.
Having an addictive personality was interesting, to say the least. Anything bad for me, I loved. I needed. To fill the hole Rico left when he showed me who he was.
It started with piercings. My ears. My navel. My septum. I chickened out at my nipples, since I wanted my titties done, so I got a tattoo.
Bad Girl. Right under my ass cheek.
I knew then I wanted to be covered in them.
But I wanted to wait until I got my titties done. Wave claimed they’d grow when I got in my twenties, so I was being patient.
Twenty-one, though, I was getting them.
So my vices turned to things that made me feel better for longer periods of time.
Good ass liquor.
Kush.
Other things for when I needed to be alert.
Sunday morning, I faced a blunt of that OG. After counting my money and recording how much I had, I rubberbanded it and placed it back in my duffels under my bed.
Mom and Dad were out of town, watching Nana die. She had six months when they first left, a year before. But I was old enough to recognize that the three of them only wanted Summer. And they gave up when Summer died.
It didn’t bother me anymore. I had somewhere to stay to stack my money. Somewhere familiar, with Pops next door. By my calculations, I could have gotten up to half a mil in two years’ time. Enough for a small condo.
Finishing the blunt, I grabbed the VSOP from the floor and took a generous gulp. My eyes were low, and after the drink, I knew I was in for a good sleep.
Of course, at six, when it’s time to start my night, I needed a little pick me up. Something to take the edge off, that feeling I had that made me wanna curl up in my bed and stay there for ten years.
I grabbed the baggie off my nightstand and dipped my stiletto pinky nail inside, then brought it to my nose.
Just a little bump for each nostril.
It was enough to wake me up, to get me in the mood to be around people.
The best thing about Wave and Flyy, and niggas with money in general, was that they always had quality shit.
Nothing stepped on. Being up all night, days at a time, making sure the play went through, I quickly understood why they needed a bump or a line to stay focused.
It didn’t take long for me to partake, but this was something I kept strictly between me and Wave. His cousin didn’t even know.
I told myself it was only when I needed it. When the days started to blur, or I really, really didn’t want to be around anyone, but I needed to. And Wave did it too, and he was fine.
I could handle it.
Licking the residue out of my nail because we don’t waste shit, I smiled at the energy zooming through me.
It was Sunday night. I was young, hot, and paid. I was ready to get into some shit.
My ponytail, courtesy of Frankie, was still fresh, so I just hit it with one pass of my flat iron after I showered and did my makeup.
I painted cheetah print above my eyes, since I decided on cheetah leggings, a long black tunic tank top, showing a hot pink bandeau, and my black Louboutins.
They hurt like a bitch when I was breaking them in, but the way I knew I was pregaming that night, my feet would be too numb for me to be in pain.
I called a rideshare when I was ready, put three bands into my clutch, grabbed my blunts and a personal bottle of Jack Daniels, and locked up.
Years of building my tolerance meant the personal bottle wouldn’t do shit to me, even if I hadn’t eaten all day. I barely had a buzz by the time I pulled up to Social, throwing the empty bottle away before I went inside.
I made my way through the bar easily, since it was still early for the crowd. Wave was in his usual booth, but as I got closer, my heart began to gallop like a racehorse.
He wasn’t alone.
Fredo saw me first, his dirty blond and brown hair pulled up in a bun on top of his head, showing a fresh taper. He narrowed his eyes, no doubt surprised to see me.
Set was engrossed in a conversation with Wave, but they stopped once I made it to the end of the booth.
Wave turned to me and grinned. “This my lady. She from Raleigh Park, though.” He stood and hugged me, kissing me on the cheek.
When I turned my head, I caught the amusement in both Set and Fredo’s eyes.
I slid into the booth, with Wave sliding in after me.
“My meeting’s running over love, but you a good judge of character. Set and Tune say that Ishy ran up in one of their spots. They got Ishy back, but can’t find the dough. What say you?”
My eyebrows rose up my forehead, as I looked between Wave, Set, and Fredo. I knew Ishy had did some dumb shit, because when word got back that he was no longer alive, Wave mentioned it was better him than everyone else.
I didn’t know it was Foe Dub he crossed. But I did know that Wave would never come up off of any money to rectify the situation, even if their reputation preceded them.
And I didn’t need him knowing I knew them, and questioning me, or worse, acting weird about putting me on.
So I smiled at them, before meeting Wave’s gaze. “It sounds like everyone’s even to me.”
“We not tripping off the money. Just keep yo peoples on yo side, so I ain’t gotta come over here no more.” Set’s raspy voice was clear over the light noise, his eyes hooded as he flicked his nose.
Wave smiled through his jaw ticks. “Now, now. The west can be hospitable. In fact, let my lady give you the real. I’ll send over a bottle of Hennessy.” He leaned over to kiss my cheek again.
“Entertain these niggas while I call my cousin,” he whispered.
I nodded, smiling at him as he slid out the booth to go towards the bar.
“Wynter Snow, in the flesh. How the fuck you end up with this clown?” Set asked.
My smile dropped from my face as I rolled my eyes. “Fuck off. Y’all gon’ fuck with my money causing trouble. Stay in them Tree Streets.”
Set leaned forward and licked his lips. “I wasn’t even tryna come here, but now I see why Fredo was adamant we make the trip instead of just airing this muthafucka out. You really fucking that nigga.”
I scoffed. “Get out of my business, boy.”
“Nah. I’m tryna be all up in yo business, Wyn.”
There was a record scratch in my brain.
Was this nigga flirting with me?
I met Fredo’s gaze, to see if he’d jump in. No matter how they got down, none of them ever shared or passed around women, as far as I knew. In fact, Set wasn’t the type to fuck with anyone who had fucked with his bros. He always felt like it was enough girls to go around.
“He not gon’ save yo fine ass. Matter fact, come on. You rolling with me tonight.”
My eyes snapped back to Set. He was smirking, gesturing for Fredo to leave. “You got five minutes to come outside or I’m coming back in here for you. That’s enough time to not fuck up yo money.”
They passed the server who brought the Hennessy. She squealed something about how fine they were, but I grabbed the bottle, opening it to take a gulp as I headed to Wave’s office.
He was on his phone, his face hardened as he listened.
“I’m finna go,” I announced.
He softened when he noticed me, and I felt guilty. I was never fucking with him how he wanted.
“They gone?”
“Yeah. I’ma link up with my other friends, and I’ll hit you up when I get home tomorrow.”
“Aight. Be good, Wynter.”